


Tales of Tales

by PinkVomit



Series: Fragmented Tales [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anthology, Anthology Series, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Flashbacks, M/M, Multi, Side Story, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkVomit/pseuds/PinkVomit
Summary: Side stories for the Fragmented Tales universe! This will not be an over arching story, just something i'm using to tell stories that i want to tell without interrupting the actual story. Requests are open!
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam/Vriska Serket, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, The Disciple/The Signless | The Sufferer
Series: Fragmented Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589860
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Tales of Tales

Life is fleeting, save for the few who are cursed to hold eternity at their fingertips. Having to lead a normal life, draw away suspicion from yourself when townsfolk notice you haven't aged, only to fake your own death and run away to the woods can be complicated. Difficult as it may seem though, Kanaya Maryam made do with what little she had.

  
  


Kanaya was rather young for a vampire; only being 190 yet feeling 1000 at all times. Every day was an endless cycle- or was it every week? Every month or season, maybe? She wasn't very sure of the difference anymore. Regardless, she would wake up, go to town, eat some poor fool, try not to get caught, end up getting caught anyways, relocate to another town, rinse and repeat. She could not recall the amount of times she’s been through this and absolutely did not want to. Having to pack away and leave so many times was rather embarrassing; Kanaya knew better than to bring this up with her mother.

At some point though, she’d have to settle. There are only so many abandoned mansions hidden in the woods that she could invade.

  
  


A new mansion to redecorate and new village to quietly terrorize; such is the life of Kanaya Maryam. She was prepared to take on any challenge that this stupid village had to offer!

  
  


What she wasn’t prepared for was a visit from her mother. Tall, lean, and very powerful, Ms. Maryam appeared in the fog at her daughter's doorstep. Kanaya gulped very nervously. There was a certain passive-aggressive air about a mother’s presence before an important confrontation; Ms. Maryam lived and breathed such an air while Kanaya choked on it. Could it be glint of murder in her eye? Perhaps it was the click of her five inch heels tapping on stone. Or maybe it was the sheer and terrifying realization that Kanaya had not sent her mother a single letter in the time she was on her own.

  
  


“Kanaya.” Ms. Maryam spoke coldly.

  
  


“Mother.” Kanaya replied, attempting to remain neutral.

  
  


Her mother took a long, judging look towards her daughters mansion. One could call it a sneer, but such an expression was not common among the Maryams. “Your outdoor decor is very unique. Mind telling me your inspiration?”

  
  


“Oh you know, when in Rome.” Kanaya, quickly gesturing to the garbage and debris surrounding her new home. “I quite like it. Ruins are very in, you know.”

  
  


“I do, I lived there. I may have to take some inspiration from you soon, you can never have enough holes in the wall.”

  
  


Trying not to falter under this verbal war, Kanaya smiles. “What brings you so far from Prospit, mother?”

  
  


“Oh, just came to check on the fruits of my labor, starlight. After all, I don’t believe my letters have been effective.” Dolorosa invited herself in, pushing past Kanaya with a brush of her cape. Kanaya quickly followed behind.

  
  


“Well, one can get busy. It’s hard to write back when you have so much to do.” Kanaya attempted to take the lead, only to be overtaken by her mother’s footsteps. “It’s plenty of pressure just surviving, finding the words to tell you of my life can be tricky.”

  
  


Smiling, she patted her daughter’s forehead. “You tell me this through your teeth, love. Tell me what’s gotten you so scarce from me.”

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


“I, well, when taking care of yourself, it can turn to, uhm-” Kanaya sputtered out her response. It was an embarrassing pile of word vomit that she couldn’t seem to cut short. Thankfully, her mother was able to silence her.

  
  


“Kanaya,” Dolorosa began, “you can just tell me what’s wrong.”

  
  


Kanaya swiped her mother’s hand away, turning until she could no longer see her face. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, you know! You don’t need to send me letters all the time.”

Sighing, her mother pinches the bridge of her nose. “My dear, you’re living in garbage.”

“It is fine, you don’t need to coddle me.”

  
  


“I’m not trying to coddle you, I’m worried.” Dolorosa gently grabbed her shoulders, only to be shrugged off. “You hadn’t answered in so long, I began to think-”

  
  


“That what? I was killed? That I am so irresponsible that I’d need you constantly holding my hand through till the end?” Sighing, Kanaya turned to face her once more. “I can do without that but thank you.”

  
  


Dolorosa opened her mouth, only to close it again. Kanaya was fully certain on the fact that she was fine on her own. Instead, her mother turned to the door, gracefully readying her arms for her eventual flight.

  
  


“If space is what you want, then space is what you’ll get.” Solemnly, she takes one last glance back at her daughter. “I love you.”

  
  


-

  
  


Since the incident in which Kanaya’s mother ever so rudely inserted herself into her 100% stable and not garbage ridden household, Kanaya made it a point to keep her home rather tidy. She kept the house decorated. Still, no amount of curtains, paintings, vases, and various bits of stolen furniture could cover up how bad the insulation was, nor could it fix the torn up ceiling. Home was home though and Kanaya chose to settle for what she had instead of longing for what she hadn’t.

  
  


Having a place to stay doesn’t fill up your belly, though. Considering Kanaya’s track record of not being able to stay in towns very long, feeding on townsfolk didn’t have the same allure as it had before. It was time to consider cows. Or, in better terms, it was time to settle for other warm blooded creatures to sink her fussy fangs into.

  
  


It would never be as tasty as people, but Kanaya knew better.

  
  


The hunt of the night caught her sight immediately. So, she got to work. Wolves weren’t a common target of her, but a lady had to eat. She clawed and scratched and hissed with all the bloodlust of something rotten and wild, but the wolf fought back with the same gusto as she had. The wolf’s small pack joined in on the scrap. They all bit with the intent to kill the one who hurt their pack brother, shredding her skin to ribbons, biting full chunks out of flesh that would only grow back, yowling in pain when she struck back. Her thirst would be quenched at any cost.

  
  


She was fed. That was all that mattered.

  
  


When she turned away to go home. she heard a distinctly young yowling. The cry of a newly orphaned pup was a sound that continued to haunt Kanaya into the present day. So, she followed it. Miserable cries lead her to an empty cave, containing nothing but a single cub. Kanaya felt a pain she hadn’t been capable of, the sort of pain that twists in your stomach like a dull knife, where your heart squeezes itself in self destruction, the sort of pain that leaves you empty but alive.

  
  


She wouldn’t be able to name it though. Not here, not now.

  
  


Kanaya scooped the little one into her arms. Intending to make up for what was lost.

  
  


-

  
  


It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what she took wasn’t any regular wolf. Karkat- named after the cats he chased off of Kanaya’s home - was a four year old puppy boy. Brash, messy, and very grumpy, Kanaya took incredible care for her little companion. Sure, he’d bark up a storm when told what to do and throw his little hissy fits, but he would always come back to Kanaya with his tail between his legs. This was basically her son now. She’d never acknowledge that though, having Karkat call her by her name instead of “mother”.

Was this due to denial or mommy issues? If one were to ask Kanaya, she would likely ignore the question entirely.

  
  


Kanaya, not wanting her little one to be needlessly sheltered, decided to take him with her to her trips to the few human villages nearby.

“Humans are only scary if they’re scared first,” She would always assure Karkat before hiding his ears with a hood. “Just stay close and they won’t hurt you.”

  
  


Now, Kanaya didn’t need to ingest food. Vampire’s can’t digest anything non liquid but if she were to make an attempt at eating anything solid, her body would convulse until the food was expelled. That being said, drinking anything other than blood- save for the occasional glass of wine - would very likely make her sick. She was food shopping for Karkat’s sake entirely. Werewolves are very hungry beings, needing a high protein diet to keep up with their wolfish forms. Karkat could go through a carnivore's fridge in less than an hour if ever given the opportunity; it was extremely difficult to keep up with his diet.

  
  


Kanaya held Karkat’s tiny hand as they shopped through town. Despite her previous warning, he made it very clear that he wanted to explore the market on his own. 

  
  


“I wanna look!” He yelled, his angry little voice cracking. 

“Karkat, you can see perfectly fine.”

  
  


“No I can’t! Everything’s me height!” He stomped on the ground. “I wanna see the meat man now!”

  
  


The “Meat Man”, as Karkat would call him, was the simple butcher of their town. Every time Karkat and Kanaya came into the market area they would make a stop to the butcher. The butcher, being a kind man with a love for all things fatherly, would give a whining Karkat three free slices of ham. Obviously, this was the quickest way to earn any puppy’s affection.

  
  


Kanaya sighed and patted his head. “We’ll stop by the meat man after I finish looking for good fabric, okay?”

  
  


“Fuck!” 

Kanaya blushed, apologizing to the woman selling fabric for Karkat’s behavior. The language thing wasn’t necessarily a fault of her own, but she knew now to never have Vriska babysit for her ever again. It became obvious why she was so gleeful the first time she had her watch over Karkat.

  
  


“Ah, don’t worry, my kids won’t watch their mouths these days.” The fabric lady assured her. “He’s a biggin’ aint he? How old’s your boy?”

  
  


Kanaya, now lifting Karkat onto her hip while covering his mouth, smiles sheepishly. “He’s four. Complete handful, this cheeky little-” She’s interrupted by Karkat biting her hand. “OW!”

  
  


Karkat dropped to the floor and ran off towards the butcher shop. Kanaya, dropping everything in her arms, broke into a sprint after him. 

  
  


Unfortunately, the crowd was much too dense to navigate properly. She whipped her head around, weaving her body through many humans who knew nothing of her boy and frankly would not care enough to help. She shouted for him and received no response. Anger turned to frustration, frustration turned to panic, and Kanaya knew it was only a matter of time before Karkat would be snatched up.

  
  


Closing her eyes, she focused on the sounds around her.  _ Chatter, small talk, how do you do? Thud, clang! Someone dropped something. Step step whine, the creak of a door. _

  
  


_ Whine.  _ Karkat.

Kanaya ran in the direction of the whine. Low and behold, there Karkat was; behind the butcher shop, held captive by a human.   
  


“Excuse me.” Kanaya’s voice was cold, she could feel her fangs growing the angrier she got. “That’s my baby.”

  
  


The human man froze, but laughed. He was a large man, just about two heads taller than her and built like a brick wall. He lifted Karkat up by the arm as if he were nothing but a doll. Karkat, who had obviously already bitten and scratched up this man, was sobbing. The man in question pulled his hood down.

“Do you know how much these things cost? Werewolf fur is worth a fortune nowadays. I knew you and your little weapon were suspicious, hiding away all week til’ sunset.” He grinned, a wicked grin that only true monsters could manage. “How much you want for ‘em? If you gimme this one, I won’t tell nobody about your pack.”

  
  


“We don’t have a pack.” Kanaya stepped forward, letting her rage last just a little longer.

  
  


The man laughed, nearly doubling over. “You think I’m an idiot, lady!? Werewolves live in packs, and unless you want your whole damn family skinned, I suggest you walk away before I get impatient.”

  
  


There it was. Her fangs poked out of her mouth, her nails grew so sharp that her clenched fists began to bleed, she was ready to slaughter this sorry fool. She took one last deep breath.

  
  


“Close your eyes, Karkat.”

  
  


-

  
  


Kanaya wiped the blood off of Karkat’s cheek. “You can open your eyes now, darling.”

When Karkat opened them, Kanaya purposefully blocked off any direct view of the man she killed. Instead of even attempting to look his way he began to sob. Karkat ran into the safety of his caretakers arms, her rubbing his back and cooing to him reassuringly.

  
  


“I’m sorry!” He repeated this seven times into her chest. “I didn’t listen, I’m so stupid! That was fucking stupid!”

Kanaya shooshed and rocked him. “You’re not stupid, sweetie, you’re not. Shhhh, it’s alright…”

  
  


It was half alright. It would only ever be half alright, it seemed.

  
  
  
  


“You’re not a werewolf. Where did I come from?”

This question was the first of many similar. Kanaya had tried to brush it off, but with Karkat’s stubborn nature and extremely loud voice, it became too hard to not justify with an answer. 

She tried to keep it short. “I found you.”

She tried to keep it sweet. “Megido below sent me to find you.”

She even tried to keep it blunt. “You’re adopted, Karkat.”

Karkat refused to give this up. He wanted to feel like him being so different to Kanaya was more than fate, more than chance, more than a Goddess’ decision and instead have a reason to live like this. She would never understand the turmoil of a child with no connection to his culture. He would never stop asking until he had an answer.

She told him when he was 13. His first full moon as a fledgling hit her like a wagon of mules and she was desperately unprepared for the consequences of his actions. Many killed fauna and a few bandages later, they finally spoke.

“Well that fucking sucked.”

“Language, Karkat.” She said, sterness in her voice.

He huffed aloud. Scratching at the back of his head, his ears twitched in slight irritation. “That sucked absolute horse anus. I don’t even remember getting in a fight with a racoon.”

“Better.” Kanaya sighed and rubbed his back. “We’ll be more prepared next time, okay?”

“You don’t know that.”

Kanaya paused. It was the first time in a very long time that she could personally agree with such criticism. She laughed, then paused again, and very silently began to weep. Karkat did not realize this development until he properly faced her.

“Wait wait wait, I didn’t….fuck what did I say?” He moved to wipe her tears away, but she had grabbed his hands.

It took her a moment before she could speak again. “I didn’t know what the wolves were protecting. I thought they were just another meal. They were normal wolves hiding something far more important than any amount of blood. I didn’t know they were hiding a werewolf! I didn’t know they were protecting you! They weren’t werewolves, they didn’t even rightfully smell like you.”

Karkat was stunned. He didn’t have to bring forward a response.

“I don’t know how to raise a werewolf, I barely know how to raise myself. I don’t know what I’m even doing half of the time!” Kanaya lowered her head in shame, “I’m sorry.”

There was silence. The silence was near absolute, save for the quiet sniffles of a vampire with no idea of what she was doing. Life is fleeting, save for a vampire who spent her’s mucking around and not confronting her problems. This, however, was alarmingly and very disgustingly new. It was a dreadful new.

Welcoming in the new and confronting what has been done can have its benefits, strangely enough.

Karkat, a young man who wanted nothing more than to have an answer from his guardian, hugged her. He hugged her tightly, and gave her something in return for the answer. Something she didn’t think she needed. Something she didn’t think she deserved.

“I forgive you.”


End file.
